The Science of Sleep
by lipseek
Summary: Amelia helps Charlotte to sleep again after she has been attacked. Set in season four.
1. Part One - The Drive

_Story set around season four, after Charlotte is attacked.  
Warning. Some mention of rape/violence, but nothing graphic.  
Disclaimer. I own nothing.  
_  
Amelia Shepherd groaned, rolled onto her side and pushed herself up, onto her elbows. Somewhere in the darkness, she could hear the distinct buzz of her telephone. Reluctantly, she snaked one arm out from underneath the warmth of her blankets, and sifted through the clutter on her bedside table in search of it.

"Mmm...'lo?" Amelia sounded incredibly young while she was still so groggy with sleep. She yawned, rubbed her nose with the palm of her hand and opened one eye.

"It's me." Charlotte King inhaled sharply, her voice low on the other end of the line. "Did I wake you?"

Amelia sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stared at the illuminated numbers in horror.

"Dude, what time does your clock say, because I'm pretty sure mine says 1:25?" Amelia sounded incredulous, although be it slightly amused.

"Cooper's away on business." She breathed noisily. "It's the first time I've been alone since -" Charlotte exhaled, deflated. "Sorry, I'm sorry. You said anytime. I just thought..."

"Hey, it's okay. You're right, I did say anytime and I meant it." Amelia softened. "What can I do?"

Charlotte was silent for a long time, piecing her words together, trying to swallow her own pride. Amelia could practically see the silent battle her friend was having with her emotions. Without another moment of hesitation, she began pulling on a pair of boots and a sweater.

"I'm on my way. Sit tight." She said gently and hung up before Charlotte had the chance to change her mind. Draping a blanket around her shoulders, and grabbing the keys from the kitchen bench, Amelia jumped into her car, turned on the engine and sped out of the drive.

Charlotte stared at her hands, tied to control their shaking and picked at her cuticles. She jumped at the sound from the doorbell, moved quickly, peered though the peephole and found the small brunette on the other side.

Charlotte unlatched the locks and tore open the door. She couldn't help the slightest of smiles that crossed her face at the sight of her friend waiting on the porch, arms tucked over her chest inside her sweatshirt, her boots miss matched, and her hair pulled into loose braids that were close to falling out. She stepped aside and let Amelia pass, watching her flop unceremoniously onto the couch.

She tipped her chin towards the empty spot beside her, indicating for Charlotte to take a seat too. She studied the blonde woman's face, trying to read the set expression, and working out what angle she should take in order to help her. Charlotte looked exhausted, her eyes were dark, her face pale.

"When was the last time you got a proper night's sleep?" Amelia's voice was quiet, filled with concern, but thankfully not accusation. She watched the tense shoulders go up and down in a shrug. For most people, medication would have been the easiest answer, but once again, nature's cruel joke played a hand and sleeping pills, like pain management were simply out of the question.

"Lying there, lying still in the darkness. I can feel him. Feel his breathe, feel his hands. It's like reliving it every night." Charlotte's voice was almost inaudible. She kept her eyes on the floor.

Amelia's mouth was parted slightly, straining to hear each word. She touched Charlotte's knuckles with her fingertip.

"Come on. We're going for a drive."

Charlotte looked up, intrigued. It was the middle of the night. Amelia must have been just as tired as she was. Still, she hadn't asked, she'd instructed, so Charlotte pushed herself up, and followed Amelia to the door.

"Where are we going?" The blonde watched her friend fiddle with the heating knob. A hot wind blasted through the vents.

"Anywhere." Amelia smiled coyly and put the car into gear.

The women sat in silence, the radio on low. The youngest concentrated on the road ahead, and the latter watched the world pass by through the window. They had been travelling for close to an hour. Charlotte's eyes were beginning to grow heavy. Her neck rolled forward. The distance between streetlights were becoming further and further apart and the gentle rocking of the car was making her sleepy. It wasn't long before finally, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off.

Charlotte awoke, morning sunlight trickling in through the car windows. She looked around, trying to recognize a landmark in her surroundings and work out where she was, but nothing seemed familiar.

"Morning." Amelia spoke softly from her spot in the drivers seat. The car was pulled over outside of a gas station and she was sipping tentatively on a steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee. She nodded to a second one in the cup holder and waved a paper bag in the other doctors direction. "Cinnamon donuts if you're interested?" Charlotte reached out for both the coffee and a donut. "It's like being on a stakeout right? Sitting here, eating donuts and drinking coffee." Amelia said and smiled warmly.

"Where are we?" Charlotte asked, and took a small bite of her breakfast. She hadn't had much appetite lately, and was glad that if Amelia had noticed, she chose to remain quiet about it.

"We're far enough that if I don't start driving soon we're going to be late for work. I'm sure my boss won't mind too much though. She'll probably even be late herself." She grinned and licked the sugar from her lips.

Charlotte leaned her forehead against the window. It had fogged up with their warm breath. The car was once again back on the road. Amelia had flicked on the radio. Suddenly "Sweet Child of Mine" was blaring from the speakers and the little brunette was singing noisily along. She drummed her fingers on the top of the steering wheel and rocked her shoulders back and forth in time. Charlotte smirked and for a moment, forgot everything else and simply enjoyed watching her friend.

It had taken a little long than she had expected for Charlotte to begin recognizing her surroundings once again and tell her that they were nearing home. Amelia stopped at the curb in front of her the blonde doctors house.

"I'll meet you at work soon, okay?" Amelia smiled, her lips tight, but eyes wide. She saw the slight nod as Charlotte reached for the door handle.

"Thank you." Only two words, but they spoke volumes. She felt a gentle hand curl around her own and squeeze.

"Anytime." Amelia said, returning her hand to the wheel. She waited for Charlotte to enter the house, before she headed off.


	2. Part Two - The Storm

The sky was growing darker and the clouds were rolling in. Although Amelia was aware of the incoming storm from her window, her thoughts were on Charlotte and the sounds of destruction coming from her office next door.

Almost an hour had passed before the room was suddenly still, and Amelia was met with a deafening silence.

Amelia knocked softly on the office door and waited for Charlotte to call her inside. She'd only taken a few steps before she stopped abruptly, staring in shock at the devastation. The room was a wreck. Furniture had been upturned, a coffee mug thrown against the wall, the contents of the desk lay broken in a pile on the floor and the brand new lamp was in pieces.

"Redecorating?" Amelia asked, a small, but concerned smile playing on her lips.

"Something like that," Charlotte said breathlessly and for the first time Amelia noticed that her friend looked completely ragged. Perspiration rolled down her forehead, her chest was heaving with exertion. She wiped her hands on her pants.

"Let me take you home. Cooper can pick up your car later." Amelia closed the space between them, touched the doctor's wrist. "You look exhausted."

"I'm not tired" Charlotte said firmly and moved out of her friend's reach, "and I don't want to go home."

Amelia searched her face, studied the worried creases around her eyes. Then she nodded.

"Okay." She said quietly. "We won't go home."

Charlotte exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping in relief.

Amelia didn't push like everybody else did. She never forced, was never overbearing. She had no expectations, made no interrogations. Amelia was just Amelia, and she didn't ask anything more of Charlotte than to simply be Charlotte.

Amelia nudged the blonde into the hallway, shut off the overhead light and drew the curtains on the office windows. Together they made their way to the car.

It was only when they had pulled out of the parking lot and were halfway down the street that Charlotte finally felt herself start to relax. She wondered if Amelia was going to take her on another long drive but was surprised when their journey came to a rather abrupt stop at a little park that was tucked away in a cul-de-sac, overlooking the sea.

Amelia stared at Charlotte. The adrenalin of the moment had passed and the doctor looked completely worn out.

"Come on." Amelia urged.

Charlotte pushed herself out of the seat, clutching the car door to steady herself while she waited for Amelia to fish something out of the boot. The younger doctor led the way and slid onto a park bench with a clear view of the ocean. Quietly, Charlotte took the spot beside her and for a long while, the pair sat in comfortable silence.

"What are we doing here?" Charlotte stared at the murky water, a reflection of the dark clouds looming above them.

"We're storm watching." Amelia said seriously, the wind whipping through the trees around them and thunder rumbling in the distance.

She unfolded the blanket she'd found in the back of the car and draped it around their shoulders, instinctively closing the gap between them to keep warm. Charlotte looked down at their knees, just barely touching, and then at their shoulders pressed together. For a moment she wished back that space, but then Amelia was distracting her with talk about the structure of the clouds and the swirl of the waves and the gap was otherwise forgotten.

The distant storm was becoming less distant by the second and in one fowl swoop a bright flash of lightening split through the skyline, unleashing a downpour of rain. Both women were on their feet, dashing in the direction of the car. Once inside, Amelia cranked the heat and offered Charlotte an impish smile.

"Only problem with the sport is it can sometimes lead to a serious case of getting soaked to the bone." Amelia smirked and watched the raindrops splashing onto her windscreen.

"You don't say." Charlotte pushed the strands of wet hair out of her face and for the first time that day, despite being cold and wet, she smiled.

Amelia, once again on the road, was busily flicking through the radio stations, unable to settle on a channel for more than a minute. She caught a glimpse of the doctor, her head tilted back against the head rest, her eyes opening and closing lazily as she listened to the soft pattering of rain on the roof. It was almost looking at a ghost of someone long gone.

Turning into the driveway, Amelia turned off the ignition and reached into the backseat for her briefcase and bag.

"Where are we?" Charlotte asked, sitting up a little straighter to look closer at the small white cottage they had pulled up beside.

"You said you didn't want to go home." Amelia explained "So I brought you to my place instead."

The rain was still coming down in buckets, so they ran up the porch steps to Amelia's bright yellow front door and quickly stumbled inside. Feeling safer once the lock had been clicked into place Charlotte allowed herself to take in what she could of Amelia's house. She felt her lips curl into a smile. The kitchen smelled of coffee and cinnamon toast. A trail of clothes were scattered between the bedroom and the door. Floral patterned runners and cloths decorated the tables. And hanging on each wall was a collection of quirky, abstract art that Charlotte didn't even pretend to understand.

"Here. Throw your wet clothes in the dryer and put these on." Amelia instructed and handed the doctor a pair of soft cotton pants and a cream coloured cardigan. Charlotte hadn't even noticed Amelia leave the room, but she had already changed into a woollen pullover and a pair of thin black tights with her hair combed back and fastened in a bun on the top of her head.

Charlotte peeled off her soggy layers of clothing and put on the dry ones, breathing in the strong scent of fabric softener and remanets of woody perfume.

On the couch, Amelia was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chin, nursing a cup of very hot tea. She smiled as she noticed Charlotte emerging from the bathroom.

"That's yours." Amelia said, pointing to the mug on the coaster. "It's hot though, so be careful."

Tentatively Charlotte took a sip. She screwed up her face.

"Oh my Lord! Amelia, are you trying to poison me? What the hell is that in my cup?"

"It's herbal tea." Amelia said, grinning sheepishly. "It's supposed to be good for you."

"I didn't order 'good for me!' I ordered consumable!"

Amelia chuckled to herself as she poured the tea down the kitchen sink and refilled Charlotte mug with hot cocoa instead. Throughout the day she was beginning to see tiny glimpses of the old Charlotte peek through. Little snippets of the person she used to be. She returned to find Charlotte flicking through an old book she had found lying open on the coffee table.

"Angelou, really? I didn't take you for the fist in the air, black, woman type." She could feel that her mouth was set in a smirk. "Go on. Entertain me!"

Amelia rolled her eyes and snatched her book back. She licked her lips, cleared her throat;

_"A bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage  
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied  
so he opens his throat to sing."_

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. She wondered if there was a message behind the passage Amelia had chosen to read. She settled back and waited for her to continue. Then they read. For almost an hour, Amelia read her poem after poem and Charlotte hung onto every word.

Amelia's voice was becoming dry and the words were now simply a soft, slow rhythm, a constant patter or lyrical rain that Charlotte could tune into and out of. The brunette took the cold cup of coco from the doctor's hands before it spilled and set it onto the coaster. She watched her friend battling to keep her eyes open. Amelia reached out and carefully removed Charlotte's shoes, lining them side by side on the floor beside the couch.

"No. Amelia don't." It was a half hearted attempt. She felt Amelia toss a blanket over the top of her, gentle fingers squeezing her hand. When her heavy eyelids finally slipped closed, Charlotte knew she had lost the fight.

It was bright when she awoke and Charlotte King was surprised that she had managed to sleep throughout the whole night. Amelia was already dressed, handing her a cup of coffee and some cinnamon toast. Despite the sunshine, the air was still frigid with winter chill, and as they bundled themselves in coats for the car ride, Charlotte spotted the book of poems still lying on the coffee table from the night before. Without a moment of hesitation, Amelia picked it up and slid it into Charlotte's hand.

"It's yours." She said decidedly and ignoring Charlotte's weak attempt to protest, she headed for the door.

Amelia had dropped Charlotte off at home where she could shower and change her clothes. Cooper had alreade picked up her car after receiving a text message from Amelia. Secretly, he was glad to have a break from his fiancé. Life with her was heart breaking and draining and he was glad that she was letting someone else in other than him.

It was only when they were a few minutes away from the practice, that Charlotte remembered the devastation she'd caused in her office. Her throat was in her stomach as she made the familiar ride to the third floor, knowing she would have to deal with the inevitable and face up to the mess she caused.

With Cooper no more than two steps behind her, she swallowed hard and pushed open the office door. Time stood still. Charlotte opened her mouth in surprise.

The room was clean. The destruction was gone, the furniture was back in place and the glass swept up. A orange paisley lamp sat on top of the desk. A yellow mug waited to be filled with coffee on the windowsill. Charlotte let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh God! Charlotte what the hell happened to your wall?"

Charlotte whipped around to see what Cooper was looking at, her whole body numb with dread.

There on the wall was a small collection of Amelia's quirky, abstract art. She smiled to herself because suddenly, she was beginning to understand.

NOTE; Poem by Maya Angelou – _I Know why the Caged Bird Sings_


	3. Part Three - The Conference

Amelia's foot was tapping. She was flicking her pen, chewing on her lip, blowing at invisible strands of hair. She'd bitten down all her nails.

Charlotte pressed down firmly on her knee, shot her a look.

Amelia shifted in her seat, silenced momentarily.

_"Fifty-six patients were...erm... followed for...erm... 39.5 months post alemtuzumab treatment...um... with interval clinical...ahh... assessments, lymphocyte...erm... immunophenotyping, and...um... MRI..."_

Amelia sighed noisily, craned her neck, tied to focus on the words the head of Fair Oaks, Washington DC's neurology department was saying. She tried to decipher the code from his monotone presentation and his interrupted, disjointed speech, tried to follow along.

She shifted again, yawned, cracked her knuckles. Charlottes hand shot out and snapped around her own.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Charlotte whispered, her voice hot and harsh against Amelia's ear.

The young brunette slumped back against the chair dramatically, her eyebrows hiked up, her mouth set in a straight line.

"I'm boreeeed!"

Charlotte scoffed, matching Amelia's expression of disapproval with her own.

"Are you serious? You have the privilege of attending a presentation of one of the most respected neuro-sergeant's in the country and you're telling me you're bored!"

Amelia nodded, shoulders square.

A loud shush came from a gentlemen in the chair behind them and Charlotte lowered her voice.

"This ain't a picnic for me either, you know."

Amelia rolled her eyes, straightened up. "Well, let's go!"

"What? Now?" Charlotte leaned forward, seemingly seriously considering the plan.

"I'll read through today's transcripts later tonight. I'll work through the key notes. Please?"

Charlotte peered around the auditorium room, watching as eyelids drooped, heads bobbed, pens dropped.

_"Timing and...erm... degree of lymphocyte recovery were...ummm... correlated with the...ahh... the re-emergence of disease...ummm...activity, with new disease activity recorded in...erm...14% of patients._"

"Okay..."

Amelia was already shooting out of her seat, side stepping her way through the sea of people and chairs. Charlotte was close behind, apologising for this disruption, offering a polite smile as they excused themselves.

"Oh man! Am I glad to be out of there!" Amelia inhaled the fresh air, beaming back at her boss. The sky was pink, but there was another hour or so of of sunlight left and she planned to enjoy it.

Charlotte remained quiet and pinched the bridge of her nose. They'd registered for the conference months ago. Amelia had complained, even then, that this was not her thing, that she learnt more from doing and watching than she ever could from listening. And still, Charlotte had pushed, said it would be good for her professional development, so Amelia had simply agreed, with resignation and ever so slight irritation.

"Come on!" Amelia led the way, forgetting her pencil skirt and her high heeled shoes, as she marched off in the other direction, suitcase swinging in her hand.

Once again, Charlotte struggled to keep up with her young colleague as she followed her down the path along the side of the canal.

"What do you want?" After downing a hotdog, a slice of pizza and a salted pretzel, Amelia had discovered a gelato bar along the way and stopped to choose a cone and a flavour. Charlotte held her hand up, signalling she wasn't interested, and waited by the door of the shop. She ran her hand over her shirt, smoothing down the fabric. She should eat something. But it had become so easy just not to eat.

The sun had sunk into the ground, the illumination of the moon rippled against the water in the canal.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Amelia stood close, their shoulders touching, but nothing else.

Charlotte felt her eyes beginning to sting, a lump forming in her throat. She shook it off, turned her attention back to her friend.

"What flavour did you get?"

"Bubblegum." Amelia smirked, presenting the aqua green treat. "Bite?"

"That looks disgusting!" Charlotte wrinkled her nose.

"It's not! It's delicious! And you should try it!" She took a long, exaggerated lick.

Charlotte felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards, once again able to push down the momentary feelings of despair.

"No," she smirked, "and it's time to head back. It's getting late and we've got another full day tomorrow." Amelia groaned, but helped Charlotte to hail a cab to take them to the hotel.

Amelia's bed was surrounded by paperwork, the transcripts she'd promised to read from the day covering her like a blanket. But her glasses were sitting uselessly on the top of her head and her eyes were fixed on the TV. The sound of a knock on her door made her jump. She knocked away the papers and fumbled for the remote.

"Hey it's just me, can I come it?" Charlotte's voice called out from behind the door.

"Uhh. Yeah." Amelia quickly turned off the TV, pushed her glasses back onto her nose, smiled up at Charlotte innocently as she entered the room.

"Don't mean to interrupt you. Thought you could use a hand with getting through those notes?" Charlotte perched on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm almost finished."

"Where you up to?"

Amelia stared at the pages. She opened her mouth, willing words. "...somatosensory temporal discrimination thresholds."

Charlotte nodded, scanned over the documents. "Where's that?"

"I had it here just a minute ago..." Amelia flicked through the pages.

"Really? That's odd, because I'm pretty sure I could hear _The Bachelorette_blaring through these damn thin walls of your room!"

Amelia gave an apologetic grin. "Ha...caught me!"

Charlotte's shook her head in playful disbelief and scooted closer, picking up a pile of paper and a highlighter. "If we're quick, we can probably have it done in an hour or two!"

"Awww, really? It's after eleven o'clock. Can't it wait?" Amelia sounded incredibly young.

"No, it can't!" There was a sudden sharpness in her voice that Amelia had not expected. She stared at Charlotte's face for a moment, studying it, trying to read between the lines. Without make up, her skin was lank, pale, the ever present smudges beneath her eyes were only accentuated. She looked as she always did these days - exhausted.

Ameria paused, licked her lips, her face softening, voice lowering. "Then it would be great if you could stay and help."

The tension was viable as is left Charlotte's shoulders. Something had caused her relief, Amelia just wasn't quite sure what it was. The pair worked well into the night, and Amelia had to fight the urge to check the arms of the clock every few minutes as she watched opportunity for sleep was slowly disappear.

The room was lit with a soft orange glow, cast from the lamp on the bedside table. Finally she was on the last paragraph!

With quiet liberation, she set down her pen and removed her glasses. Next to her, Charlotte had nodded off, her chin on her chest, still grasping the lectures transcripts in tight hands. Amelia gathered up the papers and set the on the night stand. She dared herself a glance at the clock, rubbing her face in disbelief when she read that it was well and truly into the early hours of the morning.

She looked at Charlotte, her oddly bent sleeping form that would ensure a stiff neck and aching back the next morning. The idea of leaving her to suffer with natural consequences was fleeting. Amelia pried the papers out of her hand and filed them with the others. With well practiced care, gently she moved Charlotte further into the bed and onto her side, tucking the blankets around her shoulders.

She could see Charlotte was lost between the worlds of awake and asleep as her eyelids fluttered opened and closed and she shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position. Gently, Amelia pressed her palm against Charlotte's forehead. She moved it back and forth down her temple and over her cheek.

Charlotte sighed, wearily, resettling sunk into the mattress, her defences down and she slept.

Confident that Charlotte was content for now, Amelia slipped under the sheets on her own side of the bed, turned off the light. Perhaps, this had been Charlotte's plan all along. Perhaps, she still wasn't quite ready to be left alone with her demons in the night.

The sun was blaring through the blinds when Charlotte blinked awake. She pushed herself onto her elbows, looked around the room. The door to the balcony was cracked open ever so slightly and she could just see the hint of Amelia's white pyjama's against the contrast of the very blue sky.

"Hey." Charlotte was surprised by the morning heat as she joined Amelia outside.

Amelia was curled up at the small table and chair, her head tilted back as she drank in the sun, a huge gleeful grin filling her face. Room service had obviously been by. Two plates sat side by side. One, the demolished remains of what appeared to have been bacon and eggs was lying abandoned on the table. The other seemingly untouched, covered by a silver lid.

"It is the most beautiful day!"

Charlotte put her hand on Amelia's shoulder, a gesture that was not lost on the young brunette, as she looked out at the world. "We should start getting ready or we'll be late."

Amelia snorted. "Charlotte, we are already _so_late that really, you should just sit down with me, have some breakfast and enjoy the day."

"Why? What time is it?"

"It's eleven forty-five."

"What?" Charlotte sounded incredulous. She ducked her head back inside to check the clock. "But that means... You should have woken me!"

"You slept _soundly_for nine consecutive hours and I don't think you've done that in months. I wasn't going to wake you."

"Nine..." Charlotte sat down. "I haven't slept for more than four hours at a time since..."

"I know." Amelia smiled, nodding and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. Then she lifted the lid off the second plate and handed Charlotte a knife and fork. "Eat some breakfast!"

"But you're going to miss the lecture."

With her hand held to her heart, her head bowed, and a crooked smirk, Amelia explained, "It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Charlotte eyed the food suspiciously, cut the egg and toast into smaller pieces and with a satisfied smile, she took a bite.


	4. Part Four - The Hope

Amelia stared at the missed calls on her phone. There were six that had gone unanswered, all from Cooper.

There was a boulder in her stomach, a desert in her mouth.

It had been months since he had called her. Not since - not since...everything that had happened.

And it had been everything. Everything._ Everything._

It had shaken the entire practice right to the very core. Something like this should't have happened in their own hospital. Something like this shouldn't have happened with them so close by. Something like this shouldn't have happened to someone like Charlotte King. Something like this should have never, ever happened.

But it had. It did.

And with frayed pieces of string, they had all done their best to pull it all back together. To operate, to medicate, to disassociate.

They put those images of Charlotte, with her clothing ripped and her skin bruised and torn, in a box. They carried on.

And it was the last thing Amelia had expected when Cooper had called her, his voice raw and damaged, and asked her to come.

"She won't let me - she won't let me near her..." His voice had cracked. It was his job. It was his job to comfort her. It was his job to fix her. Dammit! It was his job to protect her! "She trusts you."

"_I'll be there._" Of course she'd come.

Amelia had hugged Coop, cupped the back of her head with her hand and he'd sobbed into her neck. She hadn't expected him to cry. Not like this. She could feel the jags of each breath against her as he tried to pull himself together.

"I've got it." She nodded with half filled confidence, pushing him towards the spare bedroom. "Get some sleep. I'll stay with her."

Cooper climbed under the sheets, covered his head with his hands, willing sleep to come and lift him far away from this nightmare and give him some kind of relief.

The room was dimly lit, just the light from the bathroom shining under the open slat of the door. Amelia didn't knock. She called out. Didn't ask, just announced.

Charlotte looked up, eyes darting around, body curled in defence. She looked like a wild wolf, slunk off somewhere to lick its wounds.

"What are you doin' here?" Charlotte lifted her chin, taking in the situation. "Did Cooper call you?"

"No, I'm here of my own accord." Amelia shook off the uneasiness and sat on the edge of the bed. "I wanted to know how you were."

"Well..." Charlotte tutted, "as you can probably see for yourself, I'm fucking fantastic!"

Amelia smirked, smoothed down the blankets, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "You know, I do see that."

Charlotte snarled, her mouth turned down, fingers in fists, nails marking the palm of her hand.

"Amelia, get out." Amelia sat quietly, watching Charlotte from her spot on the bed, holding her ground. "Get out!" Charlotte raised the volume of her voice, but really, the sound that came out was empty venom.

"I'm here to help." Amelia was gentle, but unwavering. "Tell me what I can do." And there was a pause, a stare-down, the hardness in Charlotte's face a perfect match to the softness in Amelia's. Then her shoulders slumped and her head dropped and all the fight rushed out of her body at once.

"I want to wash my hair."

"Okay." Amelia held out her hand and helped her to stand. "We'll start with that."

The bathroom quickly filled with steam and Charlotte watched the dark bruises that wrapped around her throat and face disappear into the grey mist of the mirror. She kept her her focus on the wall ahead, her breath hitching as Amelia helped to steer her swollen limbs out of her clothes and into the bath.

As Amelia sat on the tiled floor, she studied the droop of Charlotte's eyelid blinking out of sink with the other, the split in her lip that re-opened when she talked and the dried streaks of blood along the line of her hair.

All her defences were down, the walls around her had drooped, any shred of dignity was gone. Charlotte sat motionless in the tub, while million dollar hands massaged her scalp and rinsed away the final traces of horror from her blonde strands of hair.

Charlotte watched Amelia, listening for words left unsaid.

It was clear in Cooper. It was in bold print, in bright lights. He was devastated. He was angry. He was desperate.

But the small arch of Amelia's brows, the lack of tension in her jaw, the slight dip of her shoulders, read an entirely different story. She was filled with something else that Charlotte couldn't quite decipher, but for a moment she wondered, if perhaps, it was hope...

"Finished." Her voice cut throughout the silence like a knife and Charlotte jumped surprised at the sudden sound. Amelia stretched and touched Charlotte's arm gently, reassuring. "You're clean."

And for the first time in days, she was beginning to feel like she was.

Amelia dried her off, redressed her wounds and Charlotte barred her teeth against the pain, clinging onto the sink for support, breathing noisily. She pressed her head against Amelia's shoulder blade, and felt a firm but gentle hand move in circles along her spine.

When Amelia had stripped the bed and changed the sheets, Charlotte climbed back under the covers, her body desperate for the relief the soft mattress would bring to her aching bones. She watched Amelia enter and exit, carrying discarded clothing and linen to the laundry to soak. The windows were opened, but the blinds remained closed.

Charlotte stared at the ceiling, her eyes wide. When she closed them, his face flashed through the darkness, ghost hands were back around her throat.

"Is there anything else I can do?"

Amelia felt the shift as Charlotte turned to gaze at her. There was an internal battle warring between Charlotte's emotional walls trying to rebuild and the terror of being left alone.

She licked her lips. "Can you hold my hand?" Her voice was unsteady and almost inaudible.

Charlotte's eyes were pooling with unshed tears, her jaw was hard, squared. Amelia a crossed to the other side of the room and slid into the bed beside her, keeping close to the edge, leaving a gap big enough for a third person to fit between them.

Cooper had rolled into the middle, wrapped himself around her, pressed his face into her neck and she'd let him stay there, because he was hurting too.

"I can hold your hand.' She dropped her hand into the empty space, felt Charlotte's fingers wrap around her palm.

"Say something." Charlotte could hear the break in her own voice. She was floating through space. She was desperate for grounding. "Anything..."

Amelia was quiet for some time, breathing in and out. Then she opened her mouth and the words simply tumbled out.  
_  
"Hope is the thing with feathers_  
_That perches in the soul,_  
_And sings the tune without the words,_  
_And never stops at all,_

_And sweetest in the gale is heard;_  
_And sore must be the storm_  
_That could abash the little bird_  
_That kept so many warm."_

Hot tears rolled over Charlotte's nose and dropped onto her pillow. She didn't move to brush them away. It was more than the words of the poem.

It was the gesture. It was the kindness. It was the most genuine offer of friendship Charlotte King had ever had.

She shifted in the bed, closing the space between them so their hips and shoulders were touching. A soft sob rattled through her body. There were tears and snot everywhere and she didn't care.

Now there were no words. There was nothing left to say.

But somewhere, somehow, there was hope.

It was like a tiny seed.

And Charlotte felt like, maybe, once again, it could grow.

With Amelia's pulse beating beneath Charlotte's fingertips, the sound of her slow steady breath and the juxtaposition of her own quick and heavy gulps of air as she tried to regain control, they lay together, hand in hand, until finally, a thick blanket of sleep swept over them and silently, unmoving, they slept.

Amelia looked back at her phone, at the missed messages. With a shaky hand, she punched in the numbers and waited for the click of the dial tone and the sound of Cooper's voice to find out what was next.

**_Note - Poem is; _**_"Hope" is the Thing with Feathers - _Emily Dickinson


	5. Part Five - The Anchor

_**ATT**; Thanks for the reviews guys! ;)_

"Amelia?"

"Hey Coop, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was with a patient. What's going on?"

"Is Charlotte with you?" He sounded panicked, speaking too fast, too loud.

"No, I'm just locking up." Amelia flicked off the lights and turned on the alarm. "No one else is here." The sound of her shoes echoed though the empty car park. "Why?"

"We had a fight this morning. She go upset and walked out." There was noise in the background, Coopers voice drowned out by a car horn as it sped past. "I don't know where she's gone. She won't answer any of my calls."

Amelia turned her key in the ignition and pulled out of the drive.

"Alright. It's alright, Coop. Keep your eyes on the road." Amelia spoke calmly down the line of the phone. "Where have you looked?"

Cooper rattled of a list of places he'd been, people he'd called. There was nothing. He had no leads.

"I'll check the beach." Amelia offered. "Don't worry, Cooper. We'll find her."

Cooper was grateful. Amelia was doing this as much for him as for Charlotte. There had been times over the last few months where he had resented Amelia. It was hard to see Charlotte turn to someone else when she was hurting, to let Amelia hold her hand when he wasn't allowed. He knew Charlotte loved him. She loved him more than anything. But he was a man. And it was a man that had hurt Charlotte. This was something he just couldn't give...

Amelia's phone buzzed in her pocked. She barely had the chance to register Charlotte's name flashing across the screen before she answered.

"Charlotte!? Charlotte, are you ok? Cooper's been trying to find you for hours!"

"'mmelia?" A breathy, Southern slur came from the other end of the phone. "Caannnyou commennn ge' me..."

Amelia paused for a moment. Charlotte sounded ..._ drunk_.

"Where are you?"

There was a long silence. "I'mmmat Joe's..."

Amelia gripped tight to the steering wheel. "The bar?" A confirming grunt came from the other end of the line. She rubbed at her face and exhaled slowly. She knew of Charlotte's history. Amelia had a history of her own. She was't there to judge. "Alright, it's alright. Hold on, I'm on my way." Amelia hung up and dialled Cooper's number.

Charlotte was leaning heavily against the bar door as a bid to keep herself upright when Amelia pulled up to the curb. Her eyes were closed, head tilted backwards, make-up sliding down her face and tangles in her hair.

"Charlotte..." Amelia shot out of the car and headed for the footpath, shrugging off her coat to wrap around Charlotte's goose-bumped shoulders. "Oh, Charlotte..."

Charlotte tried to focus, tried to form words. It was useless.

"Come on." Amelia said, softly, urging her onwards.

Charlotte stumbled forwards, her balance off and feet unsteady. She felt Amelia's arm wrap around her middle, guide her towards the car, gentle hands helping her into the seat and buckling her belt. Charlotte leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, keeping her eyes closed in a desperate attempt to stop the world around her from spinning completely out of control.

Cooper was waiting for them out front, pulled Charlotte's door open before Amelia had even put the car in park. He pushed her hair out of her face, kissed her mouth, roughly, frantic.

"You're okay..." He checked her over, helped her to stand, watched her sway. "Jesus Charlotte! You're drunk!" His voice was louder, face hard. "What the hell were you thinking? You just took off like that! I had no idea where you were! I had no idea how to find you! You could have been anywhere! You wouldn't take any of my calls. Anything could have happened to you!" He wasn't really angry. More than anything, he was just relieved. But it had been building up and up, he didn't seem to be able to stop it from coming out.

Charlotte swayed again, crashing back against the car door as she shoved Cooper away.

"Somethin'" she said, pointing a long finger at him, "already has happin' to mmm...to me!"

The words bent around the corners of a sob as she peered out from half slitted eyes.

Cooper let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, reached out to touch her. "I know."

Charlotte moved out of his way quickly.

"I'm sorry..." Coop looked wretched. His eyes were red rimmed, his hair was everywhere. "I'm sorry. Can we please just go inside? Let's just work this out in the morning..."

"No." Charlotte sounded unsure at first. She was overreacting. She was making something out of nothing. "No!" Her fist slammed against the side of the car, punctuating every word. "No! No!"

Cooper stepped towards her. He was saying something, something urgent, something upset.

"No!"

Her voice was getting louder and louder. She thumped against his chest as he tried to get a hold of her hands. With an almighty shove, Charlotte King, sent him rocking back on his ankles and straight into the ground. _"No!"_

Cooper looked up at her. His eyes were huge, confused, filled with unshed tears.

"Charlotte..."

Amelia was at her side, talking to her in murmurs, rubbing her arms.

Cooper struggled to his feet. "I..." Words fell away. They stood on the pavement in staring at each other, their chests heaving, hearts racing. Then Cooper ran his hands through his hair, turned and made his way up the porch steps and inside.

Charlotte's shoulders dropped. She sunk back into the car seat, pulled her knees up to her chest and pressed them against her face. Amelia waited, watching, explicating more. But that was all. Charlotte was done. She closed the door, started the car and drove home.

When they came to a stop, Charlotte wasn't sure if she could even manage to stand, but then, Amelia was pulling her up and across the lawn to the path leading towards her house.

They hadn't even made it half way there when Charlotte's stomach rolled and her legs gave out. She dropped to the floor, shoulders bucking as she retched and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the path.

Amelia stepped out of the way, only going into action when Charlotte sat up and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, signalling that for now, she was finished. She helped Charlotte inside. They headed straight for the bathroom.

On the tiled floor, Charlotte hit the ground again, draping herself over toilet in a kind of mocked prayer, hands resting above her head and threw up what was left. She rested her warm cheek against the cool porcelain.

Amelia rinsed a cloth under the tap and filled a glass with water. She knelt on the floor beside her friend and moved forward to wipe her face. Charlotte took the offered glass with shaking fingers and cautiously took a sip. She handed the water back to Amelia and pushed herself up. She started for the lounge room and sat on the edge of the couch. The artwork by Jean Arp glared back at her.

Amelia appeared in the doorway, carrying a change of clothes. Charlotte was still dressed in her beige office wear. Her knees were grazed and dirty. Her heel was breaking.

Charlotte's body was still reacting to the alcohol. She was slumped, sagging, propped up against the side of the chair. She let Amelia help her into the clean pyjama's, let Amelia comb back her hair and fasten it in a tie.

Then something happened. Perhaps she was just sobering up.

She sat up straight, her back erect, jaw clenched tight.

"Don' you have anythin' you want to say to me." Her voice was low, almost unrecognisable.

Amelia swallowed, inhaling slowly. She moved to sit on the coffee table so they were face to face.

She nodded, her mouth set in a straight line. "Yeah. I do."

She could see Charlotte visibly preparing for the blow. Her shoulders were back, chin up. She was bracing herself for a king hit.

"Charlotte..." Amelia's mind was whirring as she tried to work out exactly she what you wanted to say. After a long pause, she simply said. "I love you."

Charlotte looked up at her, studying Amelia for signs of deception. Desperately hoping that it wasn't a trick. Desperately hoping she wasn't just sucking her in to spit her out again.

But Amelia's forehead was furrowed, her brows were tilted, her eyelashes were lowered and Charlotte realised, there was no deception, there was no provocation. Amelia didn't want anything from her except to be her friend, to have Charlotte know that despite how she must so often feel, she wasn't alone.

Charlotte drew in a sharp breath.

Her face crumbled.

She buckled in the middle.

Split right through the centre.

Her sobs were rhythmic, melodic.

They started at the top of the scale and went all the way to the bottom.

She sounded visceral, primitive.

Wounded.

Amelia knelt on the floor. She reached out, felt Charlotte shrug her off, try to pull away. But she was undeterred, unrelenting. She held tight. She put every ounce of love and compassion and hope into her hold. She did not let go.

And eventually she felt the fight beginning to wane. She felt the slackening of tension, the slump.

All of Charlotte's defences were down.

She pressed her face into Amelia's neck and cried.

And she cried.

And cried.

Her voice went raw, and her breathing slowed, and her body went limp. She dropped her head against Amelia's shoulder, listened to the dull thud, thud, thudding of Amelia's heart, felt herself rising up and down with each of Amelia's breaths.

Feeling safer than she had in such a long time, Charlotte let herself drift into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	6. The Hug

Charlotte blinked, early morning sunlight trickling in from behind the curtains casting the room in an orange glow.

Her head was banging. Her mouth was dry. Stomach still turning.

She pushed away the blanket Amelia must have thrown over the night before and headed to the bathroom. Waiting for her on the sink were two small white tablets, a glass of water and a note marked with a pointed heart and a short message instructing her to "_Take the damn pills. Seriously Dude. Don't be a martyr. Your head will thank me!_"

Charlotte felt her lips curl into a smirk. She swallowed them, sculled the water and turned to head back towards the lounge. Passing Amelia's room, she could hear the quiet hum of the television, and wondered if Amelia had simply fallen asleep with it on, but a hearty chuckle from behind the door told her otherwise.

Charlotte hesitated, unsure, standing indecisively in the hallway, her hand held an inch from the wooden door frame. Her brain was going at a speed she wished it wouldn't- it was too early and she was in a rather tragic state.

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte knocked and let herself in. She was unable to hide her laughter as she took in the scene before her. Amelia was propped up in bed, her hand stuffed into a box of cereal, eyes glued on the TV and her laptop balanced on one knee.

"Hey." Amelia said, smiling as she turned towards Charlotte, still keeping her gaze fixed on the screen. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been run down by an eighteen wheeler..." Charlotte said, rolling her eyes when Amelia still did not look up.

Suddenly, the credits were screening and the Amelia was staring back at her, patting the empty space on the bed.

"Come watch Fresh Prince re-runs with me." She offered, her mouth quirking into a grin.

Charlotte blinked. "The Fresh Prince, huh? _Sounds life changing_." Her words were flat, dripping, eyebrows cast high with disbelief, head was shaking in mock dismissal. But she padded across the room and climbed on top of the sheets, anyway, a wry smile against her lips.

Right from the start, it had was almost impossible not get caught up. Amelia's delight was contagious. Her eyes were shining as she doubled over with noisy, unabashed snorts, finding hilarity in the character's familiar antics.

Perhaps it was just the release from the previous evening, or maybe she was still a little drunk, but Charlotte found herself unable to stop the laughter from bubbling up inside and overflowing. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed, let along laughed like this, but it felt good. It felt so fucking good. It felt good to finally feel good.

The two women slumped back against the pillows to catch their breath.

"_And to think - you doubted Bel-Air._" Amelia chided.

Charlotte held her hands up in defence, but said nothing. She she suddenly felt exhausted. Her headache was returning. Her mind was beginning to race again. She was an emotional yoyo swinging in and out of thoughts and feelings, unable to control them, unable to keep up or keep track. Amelia noticed the change, noticed the instant shift, noticed how Charlotte had wrapped the blankets around her shoulders and curled up so tight she'd practically gone foetal.

_"Sometimes the powers of Will Smith is too great, even for the best of us," she said seriously._

A smile tugged at the corners of Charlotte's mouth, then almost instantly, it was gone.

"I need to call Cooper."

Amelia sighed and muted the volume of the TV. "Yeah, you do. When you're ready."

"I screwed up..." Charlotte's voice cracked, her throat was tight. She swallowed back tears. "I needed to be strong for Coop and I screwed up. _I need to be strong_."

"Charlotte, you don't need to be anything..."

"He's gonna leave me." She sounded so unsure, and so small.

"No, he's not. He's not going anywhere."

There was a sharp intake of breath, as if somehow it was hurting to speak. "I won't let him touch me..."

"That's okay."

"He just caught me by surprise... He..." Clearly, she was finding this difficult, searching for the words, getting them out. "I...I cried...when he tried to kiss me...I cried...I never meant..."

"Charlotte..." Amelia spoke gently. "You were raped."

"I know that," the words came out quickly, abruptly "but it wasn't Cooper who raped me."

Amelia kept her voice low, soft, slow. "This isn't forever... You're not going to feel like this forever."

Charlotte lowered her eyes, letting the words sink in. She turned her face into the pillow and covered her head with her hands, unable to stop the tears.

Amelia sat beside her and watched the shadows dancing around the curtains. There was nothing more she could do.

Except wait.

And she did, until Charlotte's shoulders stopped shaking, her chest stopped heaving, she could control of her breathing.

And there was a mumble. Something incoherent, something smothered.

"What?" Amelia had strained to hear it.

She cleared her throat, tried again. _"I want you to hug me..."_It came out as a rasp, her throat tight, words barely managing to get through. But they did. Charlotte looked up, tears still rolling over her nose and into her hair.

Amelia shifted down in the bed, lying so they were face to face. She studied Charlotte. Her eyes had swollen into two tiny slits, lips pale and dry, cheeks red. She smiled, just a bit, then wrapped an arm around Charlotte's middle, wrapped Charlotte up. She pressed her palm out flat against her spine, felt Charlotte duck her head into the space beneath her chin and chest, warm breath and hot tears against her skin.

It was a relief. Charlotte hadn't expected it to be such a fucking relief.

Amelia stroked the blonde strands of hair with the tips of her fingers.

And Charlotte closed her eyes.

"Say something..." It was a familiar plea.

Amelia nodded, opened her mouth. "Okay"

_"Now this is a story all about how  
my life got twisted upside down and  
I'd like to take a minute just to sit right there,  
I'll tell you how i became the prince of a town called Bel-Air..._"

Charlotte laughed against Amelia's throat.

She felt different somehow, like something was shifting, lifting. Weight, darkness, ebbing away. A little. There was a tiny speck of light.

Spooned up against Amelia, Charlotte let herself sleep.

Note; some dialog taken from 4x10 & 4x11 of Private Practice - some of it has been sucked out of Naomi's mouth and stuffed into Amelia's.  
Lyrics; _Will Smith, Fresh Prince Theme Song_


End file.
